My games writing career saw a healthy boost in 2008. Ironic counter to my success: a subsequent decline in personal opportunities to sit back and play games for my own enjoyment.
This is not a phenomenon exclusive to me. I often get hissing telephone calls in the dead of night from writers and editors at 1UP.com, IGN, Gamespot, etc: "One of ussss, one of ussss. Hey, have you played Fallout 3 yet? Didn't think sssssso."
My obligatory "Best Of" list is a little malnourished as a result. I had a lot of review titles shoved down my throat and now my liver is a quivering, delicious mass. I mean, nothing was wrong with Ninja Reflex DS, but--yeah, I'll stop here (it did get me through a long wait at the passport office).
Still, it's not like my favourite hobby has transformed entirely into stylus-poking drudgery. I still had some good times.
There is a story behind my acquisition of Super Smash Bros Brawl. It involves the worst winter I've ever experienced and the worst snowstorm that capped that worst winter. I smashed, so to speak, through some belly-high drifts just to attend the game's damnable midnight launch. I'm too old and crotchety for midnight launches in the best weather; rest assured it was all my husband's idea.
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